


Pick Me Up, Buttercup

by Ragga



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Meetings, Humor, M/M, One Night Stands, Spark Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 22:29:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14703750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ragga/pseuds/Ragga
Summary: “Problem?” the man asked. He leaned in, breathing out, “orpleasure?”Stiles’ brain melted.“Fuck me,” he said, with ferventfeeling.The smirk widened."That can be arranged."





	Pick Me Up, Buttercup

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gksmentality](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gksmentality/gifts).



> I'm late with this but _happy birthday_ , babe! You're fabtastic and never let anyone tell you otherwise *finger guns* It's just a silly little story but I honestly liked writing it, haha!

”He’s going to ask you out,” Erica said. She popped the gum she was blowing into epic proportions. How she had managed to talk around it, Stiles would never know. He was absolutely awful at any such glorious deeds. The bartender didn’t look all that impressed, however, as he slid new drinks towards them.

When her words finally registered in his mind, he froze. And wailed.

“Noooo! He can’t! _I_ can’t!” He would break in _hives_. “I’m busy!”

Erica gave him the most unimpressed expression to ever impress and-slash-or express. If she knew, Lydia would sue her for using her trademark without her explicit permission. “With _what_?”

“Not dating him,” Stiles grimaced. Erica barked a laugh that caused a piece of gum stick to the corner of her mouth. She dragged it back with a twist of her tongue. Boy, was Boyd a lucky bastard. Not that Stiles was jealous. Whereas Erica would eat him alive, Boyd at least had his size to stop that from happening. In comparison, it would probably only take Erica two bites to make the wonder that was Stiles disappear from this world.

A tragedy would that be, yes it would.

“You do you, but he’s still going to do it,” she said, and patted him on the arm. She glanced to her left and cooed around her smirk, “aww, now he’s watching us!”

“No, he’s not!” Unable to ignore his curiosity, he looked to the other end of the bar as well. Unfortunately, Erica was right. There he was, staring in their direction, the worst person Stiles’ had ever had the misfortune to meet in his whole life.

His criminology classmate, Theo I-only-learned-your-last-name-to-file-a-complaint Raeken.

The person who would graduate with the moniker of ‘most likely to end up in jail’ or possibly ‘only studying here to avoid getting caught’. Or both. Probably both. Also, a creep extraordinaire. Definitely on par with the bastard who used to follow Allison around in high school and Stiles busted for filming inappropriate material in the locker rooms, both male and female.

Perhaps his only redeeming qualification, that he at least didn’t discriminate.

Stiles still hadn’t wanted his ass to end up anywhere online without him knowing about it – or even with knowing about it – so, busting, yeah, he sicced his dad on him. Hopefully the dude still smarted over the whiplash he got.

The moment he glanced at Theo, however, meant that he also caught his eyes. Stiles quickly averted his gaze, pretending he saw nothing.

“He’s pretty cute though,” Erica commented. She still had her face turned in Theo’s direction.

“Stop looking at him!” Stiles hissed. “He’ll get the wrong idea!”

He had got the wrong idea the whole semester. Purposefully too, Stiles imagined bitterly, because Stiles had actively tried to discourage any attempt the guy had tried to, well, be friendly towards him. Very friendly. Too much of that friendliness was there in the air whenever Theo was around.

Erica might be right in that he was, objectively, good-looking enough. Stiles did have eyes. But he gave Stiles the heebie-jeebies his dad had always warned him about. He excluded them á la eau de creeptastic.

Why had he agreed to go out tonight?

“Because Scott is taking over your dorm with Allison and my boyfriend is on his shift and I was the only one bored enough to follow you to our local crappy student-friendly bar,” Erica said. She threw back her shot, her hair flowing with the movement.

Stiles made a face. “Why did you have to remind me?” he whined. Now he would wonder if Scott and Allison actually made it into Scott’s bed. Stiles told Erica as much, but she only rolled her eyes at him. Honestly, they both swore they had never touched Stiles’ bed but when he had returned one fateful morning, it had been unnaturally warm for not having been slept in for over twenty-four hours.

He was onto them, he so was.

“I think he’s coming over.”

Erica’s words snapped Stiles back to reality and he suddenly felt cold.

“He’s not!” He glanced in Theo’s direction and- shit, he was getting closer. “Oh shit, he’s getting closer,” he gasped. “What am I going to do?”

Erica shrugged. “I don’t know, just say ‘hello’ and try him out for one night? It’s not like you have a place to sleep tonight anyway. Use him for his mattress, bang his ass or let him bang yours, and go home tomorrow more or less satisfied?”

“What? Erica, no!” Stiles’ voice was so high-pitched even he recognised the difference. “He’s a major creep! I swear he stalks me! If I do that, he’ll lock me up and cuff me to bed or something!”

Erica’s brows lifted and a smirk spread on her face. “Ooh, kinky.”

“ _Erica_!”

“Sorry, sweetling, just fuck that tension out and feel better tomorrow.” She patted his butt and pressed a twenty to the bartender to pay for her tab with a wink. “I’m off. Your desperation is making me horny and my boo’s going to be home in,” she checked the time, “two hours. I can totally have a little fun before that. He loves it when I’m already wet for him.”

“ _You can’t leave me_!” The panic Stiles felt was fucking _real_. Erica gave him a look, a good once-over, before hopping off her chair. Her hair bounced.

“You have my number, call me if things really turn sour. But Stiles, you’ve been talking nothing but this guy for _weeks_ and, now that I’ve seen him, I’m not sure you have the whole picture. Just try it out, call me or cops on him if things go south.” And then, because she was a catty bitch and a bad, bad friend, Erica waved her hand jauntily and disappeared into the masses.

Stiles had never felt so alone.

The seat Erica had just vacated was quickly filled. Desperation and dread filled him. Stiles peeked on his left from where he had slouched over the sticky counter.

It wasn’t Theo.

No, it was someone who _definitely_ didn’t belong to a bar like this. He was older, for one, probably a decade older than Stiles if he wasn’t totally off his game. And handsome. Christ, Stiles was having an allergic reaction to stalkers and sweating like a pig next to a freaking supermodel. That V-neck did nothing to hide the muscles underneath, only exaggerated them – no, not exaggerated, fuck, his arms and neck were of the same build and Stiles wanted to _die_ -

The mystery hunk cleared his throat and Stiles’ eyes snapped up. He was immediately trapped by the man’s gaze. Fuckfuckfuckfuckity _fuck_ , he had been noticed. Where was his world-renowned subtlety when he needed it?!

 _You don’t have any, kid_ , his inner dad-voice told him. Well fuck you too, dad.

The smirk was fucking hot. The beard made it even hotter. What would it feel on his-?

“Problem?” the man asked. He leaned in, breathing out, “or _pleasure_?”

Stiles’ brain melted.

“ _Fuck me_ ,” he said, with fervent _feeling_.

The smirk widened.

“That can be arranged,” came the silky answer and the man leaned in, beard scratching against Stiles’ neck, and _oh_. _It was even better_. His breath hitched, and he groaned, feeling the teeth.

“You want to get out?”

It took Stiles a moment to actually get his brain to collect itself from the goo it had become but, when it finally rebooted itself, he nodded frantically. The man leaned back and dared, _dared_ , to lick his lips.

“And what do good little boys say?”

Yep, it was official. Stiles was too far gone to care. If he was going home with anyone tonight, it better be the bearded hottie. He fumbled with his wallet and slammed what was hopefully a twenty on the counter.

“ _Please_.”

He didn’t have any eyes for Theo who was left staring at their backs. He didn’t see the man grin with only his teeth nor the way his classmate turned around either, searching for easier prey.

***

The morning after was… something.

Stiles woke up slowly, legs feeling like jelly and body encased within the warmest of covers. He wanted to burrow himself into it until he died and started smelling and then be burned with it.

“That’s rather morbid.”

Stiles blinked. Then he blinked again. And again.

Why was his cover talking?

“Because this cover is actually alive.”

Shit.

Stiles flailed- or, well, tried to. There were arms around him and he only made a very inefficient twitch and a half kick that only smacked against the wall. A hard wall. That definitely _wasn’t_ alive. And didn’t give an inch.

 _I hate my life_ , he thought as his foot throbbed. He hadn’t been feeling too sore despite the night he had had but this definitely made up for it.

His living cover sighed behind him and suddenly it was like Stiles hadn’t kicked the wall at all. With the lips set against the nape of his neck – which felt sensitive as _fuck_ – it was like the best dream ever.

Except.

Stiles knew that feeling, the feeling of not feeling what he was supposed to be feeling. You know, _that_ feeling.

“Why am I such a magnet?” he whined. It was just _so_ _unfair_. This is _not_ what his ‘be the spark’ thing was supposed to be about. “Why can’t hot people ever like me for me?”

The lips paused.

“What?” his cover- no, the man from last night asked. Something nudged Stiles’ mind and- yeah, that was his name. Peter. The name he had been screaming until his voice was too hoarse to even whisper. The hottest man to ever pick him up on the bar and he just had to be a-

“You’re an incubus, aren’t you?” Stiles said. Peter twitched, fingers spasming, and Stiles groaned. “I knew it! No way the sex was so good without some unwanted addition! Why couldn’t you be a plain old werewolf or something? Unless you’re an alpha. If you are, please don’t bite me. Is the such a thing as an alpha incubus? Whatever, just, if you try to hold be captive or whatever, I _will_ call my alpha and he will come here and be pissed. I should know. He’s done it before. He’s a puppy though, wait, shouldn’t have said that, but he might even call good ol’ dad and his collection of guns.”

Peter’s grip tightened before relaxed enough that Stiles managed to turn around and- fuck, that was a bad move. Now he was face-to-face with that hot bod that was even hotter now that he could see it in broad daylight. That chest. That neck. _Shoulders_. Stiles’ eyes lowered.

 _Dick_.

That had been inside him for, like, _hours_.

“You don’t turn people with your dick, right?” he blurted out. “Because not cool dude. I mean, your dick was pretty good, fantastic even, but I wouldn’t want it to change me from inside out, you know what I mean? Or get me pregnant but I don’t think that’s possible even for magic dicks. I hope. I’m too young to be a dad. If you did then you better pay me that allowance for carrying your heir.”

Peter still stared at him like he wasn’t sure what to make of Stiles.

“Excuse me,” he said flatly. Stiles nodded.

“You’re excused. Can I be excused? I could really, like, take my leave before the cavalry arrives. My dad has found me twice with my pants around my ankles and now I don’t even have that. It sucks, let me tell you.”

Also because of the mess they had to clean afterwards. Stiles might be a bait for all kinds of creatures – and didn’t _that_  often suck in the worst of ways – but he wasn’t _weak_. If anything, after activating whatever ‘spark’ he had, he had gone to Chris for lessons and was now Allison’s regular sparring partner. And he never really went anywhere without a small bag of mountain ash, just in case, scentless as it was. The cavalry was usually just about helping him clean things up. But, well. Hopefully not now. He kind of liked Peter. Or he liked his dick. Either or.

“It also sucks to be talking about my dad in the bed. Boner killer, that one, always. Please, Mr. incubus?”

“Werewolf.”

Stiles blinked. “What?”

“I’m not an incubus. Just a, how did you say it, a _plain old werewolf_.”

Peter sounded almost offended. Stiles took offence at that.

“Hey! That’s a good thing! ‘Wolves are the best of all creatures! My bro is, like, _the best_ , you know? And he’s a wolf so naturally they are the bestest then, even.”

“I-” Peter’s voice cut off and his nose twitched. Yeah, a standard werewolf sniff right there. No need for flashy eyes, Stiles was too familiar with that twitch.

“Just don’t tell me I smell, dude.”

“Just of us.”

“Not bad then?”

Peter’s smirk was back. “No, can’t say bad.” Then he rolled his hips and Stiles’ eyes rolled back as well in tandem. _Fuck_.

“Unfair,” he whined. “You’re totally using your magic dick against me. I bet you carved a space inside me and now I’ll never be able to forget about it. You _dick_.”

“Then you just never have to leave,” Peter breathed against his neck. Stiles paused. He freed one of his hands from where it was stuck between their bodies and smacked Peter’s nose with it. Peter reared back.

“No,” Stiles said. “You want it in Spanish? _No_. I’m not going to be anyone’s sex slave either!”

“Jesus, what the hell is your life if this is the conclusion you draw from a healthy sex drive?” Peter groaned. “Is this why the werecoyote from last night was looking at you like you were his next meal?”

Stiles blinked. He had a bad feeling about this.

“A werecoyote?” he asked tentatively.

Peter grumbled something about instincts, betrayals and pick-ups but answered when Stiles poked his side. “The guy coming at you. The one your friend was talking about.”

It was Stiles’ turn to groan. “Are you kidding me?” he demanded. “ _Theo’s_ something as well? I knew he was creepy, but this really turns it up a notch! I _knew_ he was stalking me!”

“You should talk to your family about that then.”

Stiles’ rant was cut off. He turned his attention back to Peter from his ceiling. “I don’t think the bars will hold any supernatural creature,” he told him. Peter’s brows arched.

“So you are _not_ a hunter?”

And where had _that_ come from? “Nooooo,” Stiles drawled. “That would be my best friend’s fiancée. I’m just a regular Sheriff’s kid.” Well, almost. “He does have the bullets, thanks to Ally.”

“Your best friend? The werewolf?” The disbelief in Peter’s voice was palpable. Stiles nodded, smirk spreading on his lips.

“The regular Romeo and Juliet, those two, but with a happy ending. It was a bite for her family to swallow, _heh_ , but they came around in the end. Ally’s a force to be reckoned with whenever she gets an idea in her head.” Something clicked in Stiles’ mind. “Hey, you shouldn’t be so judgemental either! You thought you were boning a hunter and were ready to go again!” He paused again. “Dude, shouldn’t you have realised I’m pack? I must _reek_ of dear ol’ alpha. I’m not even sure my shirt is mine.”

“You’re lit like a beacon. It is pretty overpowering.” Then Peter just shook his head. “Just tell me where you’re from so I can avoid the place like the plague.”

Well, guess that was a no for an encore. Boo. “Well, we are studying here but during summer we go back to Beacon Hills.”

Now it was Peter’s turn to pause for a moment. “Beacon Hills?” he questioned. The disbelief was back with a side of confusion, sevenfold. No, the eyes widened. Tenfold. Stiles nodded slowly.

“Yeah. It’s this small town in Northern California.”

“Sheriff… Stilinski?”

“That’s dad. You know him?”

“There’s a _rogue_ _werewolf_ in Beacon Hills?”

“Hey! He has a pack, alright! Ally and me, our families more or less, and these few strays that just happened, I swear.”

Like Isaac, who then dragged in Boyd, who dragged in Erica. And then they found out the same rogue alpha who had bitten Scott had also got Jackson and that was a whole another mess altogether. And then Allison happened and Lydia and then there were sparks and sudden alphas because someone had to be and now life was just a weird normal.

“And who is your alpha?”

“Scott of course.”

Peter looked like he was having a major headache. Stiles could relate. That had been a mess as well. They never even knew what happened to the one who bit Scott and Jackson!

“There’s a rogue alpha in Beacon Hills,” he said dully. Stiles scowled.

“He’s not a rogue, he has a pack. And only during summers. Right now. Graduation’s still off for a while. And it’s not like there’s anyone else there to stop kanimas and what not.”

The pain Peter seemed to be in would be hilarious if it wasn’t so confusing. He seemed to be both having an epiphany but also looking kind of disgruntled.

“There’s always the Hale pack.”

Stiles froze. “Hale, as in Laura Hale? Dad’s deputy?”

“The very same.”

No one could ever say Stiles was stupid, his spastic moments notwithstanding.

“Peter Hale?”

Peter nodded. Stiles nodded.

It was awkward.

“Well, this is awkward.”

“Very.”

The silence stretched. And stretched. And stretch-

“Want to fuck?” Stiles blurted out and winced. No, of course he wouldn’t-

The kiss that answered Stiles’ question swept all his thoughts away in the best of ways.

***

The repeat performance was even better than the night before.

***

“Wait, the Hales are werewolves?” Scott asked him after Stiles finally stumbled back to their dorm and managed to relay him the important bits. Stiles nodded from his position on his bed – thankfully clean and the sheets were even the same too – with his laptop held against his propped-up legs. His eyes skimmed over the files his dad had on the Hales.

Just in case.

“Yeah, dude. Imagine that!”

“All of them?”

“I don’t know, maybe?”

“Cora too?”

Stiles switched to her school records. Yep, suspicious absences during full moons. “So it seems.”

Scott looked so very confused. “Why don’t we know each other?” he asked. Stiles shrugged.

“I don’t know. We did try to keep a low profile with everything going on? And Cora transferred somewhere else – oh, Heather’s school – around the time you got bit. Also, apparently your former boss was their emissary or something.” When Scott’s forehead wrinkles deepened, Stiles added, “before he decided to retire during all that to that pig farm a few states over? Peter didn’t seem to like him so maybe there was some schism? I don’t know, I’ll ask him the next time we talk.”

“Dr. Deaton or Peter?”

Stiles hummed, switching between pages. Oh, Peter’s nephew was hot too. What, a record for trespassing? That’s inter- wait, for rescuing a cat from a tree? Who even was this guy? A living, breathing marshmallow?

His eyes narrowed as he came across a photo of the family on Laura’s social media. Damn, that was some sunglasses game right there. And they were all good-looking too. Where did they buy their genes? Stiles needed to get an in there. He could do with a little less spaz.

“I meant Peter, but I need to call Deaton too. Peter said something about how I’m, what was it, like a sun or something. If I get a handle on it, I think we could dial down with the unwanted Stiles-nappings. ‘Be the spark’, pfft. If only he hadn’t taken off like his hair was on fire into retirement, _ha,_ perhaps this could’ve been resolved years earlier.”

“You’re seeing again then?”

A lecherous grin spread on Stiles’ face. Scott grimaced.

“Not cool, bro.”

“Allison.”

“ _Ugh_.”

***

“So,” Stiles panted while bouncing up and down on Peter’s magic dick. The strain he was feeling in his thighs was almost as fantastic as the grip Peter had on his hips. He was going to have _bruises_. It would be _glorious,_ and he would feel them for _days_. “Was Deaton a fuck-up or not?”

“The biggest,” Peter agreed. There were beads of sweat on his forehead. Stiles leaned over and smeared them, dragging a hand through Peter’s hair. “Do we have to do this right now?”

Stiles moaned when Peter rubbed against that spot inside him. “Why not?” he asked and then smirked. “What, can’t multitask? Why, Mr. Hale, did I – _oh_ – find something you’re bad at?”

Peter pulled Stiles closer and bit into his collarbone, nursing what had to be the mother of all marks on it. Stiles threw his head back and groaned.

“I told Talia about you.”

“I told Scott.”

“Truce?”

“Will be. Scott doesn’t like fighting.”

“Talia doesn’t dirty her hands either.”

“You?”

“And you?”

Stiles smirked. Peter answered it with one of his own, the sexy bastard.

“Well, if we are already fucking, then I don’t think we have anything particular to worry about.”

“Ditto.” Peter thrust up particularly hard then and Stiles dick bounced against his stomach. He let out a wordless cry and released all over his and Peter’s chests. He fell backwards, back hitting the sheets, pillows askew, and Peter lifted Stiles’ legs and drove into him, hard and unforgiving, until finally following him over the edge.

“So.” Stiles sucked in air, sweat cooling on his skin. “Peace negotiations?”

“Same time next week?”

“Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! :D
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](https://hali-ra.tumblr.com/).


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